


Four Times Auctus Was a Dad and that One Time He Wasn't

by rivlee



Series: Live Fast, Die Old [17]
Category: Spartacus Series (TV), Spartacus: Blood and Sand
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Gen, Kid Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-26
Updated: 2013-02-26
Packaged: 2017-12-03 17:57:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/701056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rivlee/pseuds/rivlee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just what it says above.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Four Times Auctus Was a Dad and that One Time He Wasn't

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gaygreekgladiator (ama)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ama/gifts).



> Written for Alex because she has a birthday coming up and she asked for this premise.

**Four Times Auctus was a Dad**

1. _Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No-Good, Very Bad Day_

Auctus Housiadas was pretty damn certain a sign of bad parenting was laughing in the pouting face of his four-year-old, but he couldn’t help it. Alexander was a perfect tiny combination of Duro and Kore and looked just like both of them at the start of a shit-fit. It was _adorable_.

Auctus had to take a long sip of his coffee to hide his smile. Alexander looked ready to start a mutiny on the S.S. Couch and last time that resulted in Play-Doh stains that _still_ made Duro growl. Auctus sat down on the floor besides his baby bird and patiently waited for the words that would come. 

“It was the wrong blue,” Alexander insisted. He’d come home from preschool in a huff and no amount of asking, talking, or offers to ride Moose like a horse had bribed the problem out of him. Now, sitting down with his crayons and paper right beside his Papa, he’d finally started his confessional. 

“What was the wrong kind of blue, nestling?” he asked.

“It was _azure_ ,” Alexander said with all the sarcasm a child his age could muster. “They kept calling it _periwinkle_. Then they wouldn’t listen to me even though I _told_ them about Crayola Cards.”

Auctus had to hide his smile again. So young and already such a sense of his ideas of right, wrong, and his own self. Auctus almost felt bad for the world and their clear stupidity over not knowing Alexander’s favorite things. Crayola Cards was a game Duro started when Alexander was two, both bored out of their mind while Auctus had to give interviews in the gallery. Duro had started it with a box of Crayola crayons and index cards, it remained a favorite pastime to this very day. Their child knew more color names, real and made-up by corporate crayon executives, than most art critics. Auctus doubted it’d be the kind of skill that would get Alexander into an Ivy League, but at least he’d always have an interesting story to tell that didn’t involve having to mention his father the famous local artist, his uncle the famous author, his Grammy-winning Aunt Naevia, or how his dad and Uncle Agron ran everyone’s favorite local record store. Christ, he’d probably become a suit-and-tie corporate man just to be the odd one out of the bunch. His older cousin Hani already showed a terrifying amount of musical ability, which surely paved an interesting future for Agron, Nasir, Saxa and Chadara. 

Auctus would be proud of him no matter _what_ road he stumbled upon. Duro would be even prouder. It was funny, how their lives turned to this, yet Auctus never regretted it. Kids were never in his life plan, nor Duro’s, but one day Auctus started to seriously consider it. Hani had just passed his second birthday, and Duro and Auctus were the only ones trusted enough to watch him overnight. They realized they were surprisingly _good_ at the kid thing. It was still another year before they seriously considered it. Auctus was glad they took that time to weigh all the pros and cons; it meant that when it was time to welcome Alexander into the world they were as ready as they could possibly be. 

Here they were now, four years later, with one crayon color elitist of a son, a still as happy as ever Moose, and an Archimedes lazily watching over them all. They were all a little older, and in Auctus’ and Moose’s case, a little grayer, but they were doing pretty damn good. 

They all look up at the sound of Duro’s keys at the lock. Auctus nudged Alexander. “I think your Dad could use a flying squirrel attack today.”

Alexander put down his crayon with far too much deliberation and seriousness for a child that had both Duro and Kore’s genes. “Really?”

Auctus nodded. “It’s the best way to start an afternoon, don’t you know?”

Alexander tilted his head, the afternoon sun highlighting the deep colors of his warm dark eyes, and Auctus had to stop himself from waxing poetic about the absolute most perfect work of art in front of him. Alexander nodded, the fringe of his dark hair falling across his face before he hopped up and clambered over Auctus to get in place. Moose was immediately at his side, forever his guard dog. 

Auctus leaned back against the couch and got ready for the show. In the blink of an eye, Duro had the door open, his bag and keys dropped to the floor, their son in his arms, and their dog at his feet. 

Duro kissed Alexander’s forehead. “Terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day, nestling?”

Alexander nodded and burrowed closer into his father’s arms. Duro cupped the back of his head and caught Auctus’ eye. Auctus smiled to let him know it wasn’t a major crisis, just a minor one.

“You know what makes a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day better?” Duro asked. He winked at Auctus when Alexander just shook his head. “Papa tackling time.”

Auctus didn’t even have time to yell an _oh shit_ before all three of the traitors took him down. He laughed at the warm, familiar weight of Alexander and Moose on his chest. He kissed both of their heads before leaning up to meet Duro’s lips.

“Welcome home, little chickadee,” he said. “You look like you had a good day.”

“Right now it’s starting to feel like the best ever,” he said, eyes lingering on where their hands both rested on Alexander’s back. Duro grinned in a way that meant their little nestling would be conned into nap time _very soon_.

No, this was never the life Auctus imagined when he was a young, confused jackass trying to navigate his life after his dancing career was done and his first major relationship went down in flames. He wasn’t living in some Italian villa or Parisian mansion talking with the highest of art society’s elite. No, this was so much fucking better. 

2\. _Vanessa Kanellis: Matchmaker Extraordinaire_

Auctus Kanellis divided his life between two things; his military career and his teenage daughter, Vanessa. His determination to rise in the ranks of the Marines had cost him a marriage, but he was lucky enough to have an understanding ex-wife in Mira. They still loved each other; they’d just fallen out of love years ago. She was starting over again, as was he, and they both worked to give Vanessa the fullest life possible. She was the best of them and Auctus cherished each hour he got to spend with her now. When she was younger he was busy working in just about every corner of the world; he had missed a lot, but was gladly making up for it now.

That’s how he wound up as the volunteer carpool driver for her new softball team. Vanessa had dreams to be the next Jennie Finch; the least Auctus could do was drive half the team to and from practice and carry around a cooler full of water and Gatorade. It also wasn’t much of a hardship to meet with her coach either. 

“You should ask Coach Castus out,” Vanessa said one afternoon apropos of nothing.

Auctus damn near rear-ended the UPS truck in front of them. “Did you just say what I think you said?” he asked. 

Vanessa rolled her eyes as she started to root through the glove compartment. “Dad, come on. Mom’s moved on with Donar, it’s time for you to get back in the game. You tried the women thing and so failed. You should totally go back to dudes. Mom told me you used to date them before you went all literally straight-laced military.”

“I’ve always favored the person over the sex and your mother and I will have a long talk about appropriate conversations,” he said. 

“It was completely appropriate. Mom was giving me _The Talk_ and just wanted me to know that if I fell in love with a man, work, or both it was okay because you’ve pretty much done it all. She did say it was on you to explain the wilder aspects of your frat boy youth.”

Auctus gripped the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turned white. _Wild_ didn’t even touch half the shit he pulled in those days. “When you’re older and we can both sit down for shots of whiskey because that’s what’s going to be required for me to even speak of it.”

Vanessa smirked and Auctus felt his stomach churn. “I’ll hold you to that, Papa,” she said with all the innocence of her thirteen years combined. 

She was practically running out of the car before he’d even parked, and good lord would they be having a talk about proper seatbelt procedures, but Auctus didn’t have the heart to scold her when she was so excited. He well knew the joy of being on a team; that unique bonding experience that came, be it a strike force or a knitting circle. You didn’t have to like everyone involved, hell you wouldn’t even if you tried, but it still brought you together. He didn’t call her back to help unload the cooler and snacks either. His back could handle it all just this once. 

He was in the process of picking the cooler up from the floor of the backseat when he got interrupted.

“Can I get that for you, Mr. Kanellis?”

Auctus almost slammed his head against the car roof in surprise at the sound of Coach Castus’ voice. He turned to find the man grinning at him. The bastard was wearing a sleeveless shirt showing off his ridiculous arms. The biceps were bad enough, but now Auctus could see the full length of them and holy shit he needed a moment to be an old fool. 

Castus Williams had played in the major leagues for the Boston Red Sox. He’d made it two years in the majors before a bad base stealing move had ruined his career. Torn ACLs were hell to come back from for most people, but a player that got to the big leagues best on his speed and ability to steal bases? It was a fucking death sentence. Castus wasn’t bitter about it though; well, at least not in the face of a team of twelve and thirteen year-olds and their parents. It was rare to _not_ find a smile on his face.

Auctus was suddenly aware he’d been staring for a long time. He shook himself out of it. “I think I’ve got it.”

“Are you sure?” Castus asked. He pointed over to where a circle of the girls were gathered and looking at them. “Vanessa said you could use a hand or two.”

Auctus glared over at his daughter. He was too far away to hear her _eeep_ , but the sudden ducking of her heard was satisfaction enough. “I’m not _that_ old that I need assistance.”

Castus grinned. “Hell no, you don’t. You look good for forty.”

Hearing someone as young and attractive as Castus say his age like it was a compliment actually stung his pride a little bit. Auctus turned back to the car and pulled out the bag of snacks. He shoved the tote bag on his arm and grabbed the cooler before closing the door with his foot.

“No, really,” he said. “I’ve got this.”

The girls were halfway through their batting practice when Castus slid beside Auctus in the dugout. He leaned over Auctus and pulled a Gatorade from the cooler.

“I feel like I might’ve offended you earlier,” Castus said as his arms slid back across Auctus’ chest. “That wasn’t my intention,” he said as he twisted off the cap. He held out the drink to Auctus. “So, can I buy you a drink?”

 

3\. _Kore & Auctus vs. the World_

Kore Peroulas never knew her father; his death came before she even entered the world. She barely remembered her mother; brain cancer took her when Kore was only six. Her brother Auctus was the only father she ever knew and the only parent she remembered. He’d done well for them though; saw her to a normal life as possible as he took increasingly dangerous jobs and sunk further and further into some government think-tank to where even _she_ started to fear for him. 

Then one day he came home. Said his job was done, said he and Barca were over, said they’d go back to a normal life absent international secrets, the smell of gunpowder, and the bloodstains.

It was a pretty lie that Kore never, ever believed. Auctus was damn good at being a brother, a father, and a teacher. He was even better at sliding into different personas, becoming different people, with various accents and backgrounds, as he gathered intel and maybe, possibly, most likely, killed a mark at the end of the night. He was caring, but he could be stone cold, and Kore never doubted her brother’s ability to be an extremely dangerous man if provoked. 

Life hadn’t exactly set them up for a future as teddy bear makers and lollipop sellers. 

Kore was raised to be self-sufficient, though Auctus tried to keep her out of the family business. She knew eventually the folks from Capua, Inc. would come calling around again. No one invested all that money in such a well-trained operative to drop them over petty bullshit like a power change. 

_She_ was the one to push him into freelancing. _She_ was the one who urged him to train her just as he’d been trained. _She_ was the one who started taking the undercover jobs and working with all sets of contacts and dragged Castus into their lives. (He was a vice detective at the time, working undercover as a stripper. Those were good days full of laughter.) _She_ was also the one who just needed her _dad_ on really shitty days when she hadn’t saved someone in time or the intel she’d uncovered wouldn’t change shit.

The world would always be a cruel, hard place, but it was easier to deal with when the familiar scent of her Auctus surrounded her. Cedar, he always smelled like cedar or oak since he worked with wood to burn the tension off a bad day. 

“Come here,” Auctus said as he pushed away their dinner plates. He stood up and she eagerly slid off her chair into his arms. 

“They were just kids,” Kore said. She didn’t want to think of the details of this last mission.

“Still older than you when we lost mom,” Auctus said.

“But I had a _you_ ,” Kore said. “Those kids, those little ones, Auctus they don’t have a you.”

Auctus hands left a soothing trail as they left her shoulders to cup her cheeks. “I swear to you, I will see them protected. I’ve already called Diona. She’ll see it done.”

“Of course,” Kore said. It was stupid to even wonder about it.

“Hey,” Auctus’ voice went soft. Kore opened her eyes to meet ones so like her own. “You and me, kid. We’ve got this.”

“For always?” Kore asked. It was one of their touchstone phrases she’d whisper into the dark when everything got too much.

“For always,” Auctus promised. He started humming _Somewhere Out There_ until Kore finally laughed.

They’d get through this, together, like always, and greet the next mission just as strong. It’s just how the Peroulas family worked.

4\. _The House of Papakostas_

There were a few interesting tidbits about Auctus Papakostas that he only shared with the very closest of friends and lovers. The main one was his family history. The Papakostas were a family of exile. They were lesser cousins of a line that fled when Hitler and his troops invaded Greece and neither the Nazis nor the Allies were looking to take down their blockades. They were truly a very lesser branch of the Royal Family, invited neither to the celebrations in Denmark when their cousins of some degree got married or in England where most of the family lived now. Auctus didn’t really care. He’d done the royal-lite life as a young man; went to all the proper schools and family gatherings before settling into the typical banker’s life. He avoided all pitfalls of trying to have lesser-cousins of the Nassau and Hapsburg lines thrown at him as potential wives. Auctus got out of that lifestyle and gladly clung to his current financial consulting job. He _did_ use his inheritance in a way that would be good Public Relations Leverage if, or rather _when_ , someone in the family fucked up again.

When Auctus turned thirty, he’d already owned his own house and had a stable job with long prospects. He was wealthy both from family means and his own work. He’d given up on marriage and biological kids. Auctus was never going to find a partner the family would approve of, be it a man or a woman, so he went with his next best option.

Auctus became a foster parent. They wouldn’t let him _adopt_ because of his unmarried status and even if he could use enough money and influence to make the system work in his favor he refused. Fostering allowed him to watch after the older kids; the ones who, for whatever reason, got passed over for adoptions and were too old to be considered likely candidates. Auctus had never really thought of it as a thing before he did some charity work helping to balance the books for a local orphanage. At twenty-six it opened up his eyes and pulled his head out of his ass. At thirty he decided to do something about it. At thirty-eight he’d offered a home to five different children, three of whom decided to linger around even after they were no longer official wards of the state. The other two checked in once a week, but he knew _they_ knew the way home. Diona was off at Oxford being brilliant and literary. Dagan was enjoying his football scholarship and life on the other side of the country at USC. 

He had three little kittens who stayed though. Naevia, who wanted to follow in his financial footsteps; Pietros, who now that he’d had a found a safe place wasn’t leaving any time soon because he didn’t _have_ to; and Nasir, who was determined to make it on his own, but after Auctus saw the rat-infested shithole closet he called a studio apartment got dragged back home by his hair.

They were his _kids_ and he’d fight for them until the very end. When all five of them showed up though without any notice, he felt a sense of fear. 

“The grumpiest duke ever needs to check his work hours,” Pietros said when Auctus shut the front door. 

“Or a boyfriend,” Naevia said. “My favorite bartender would be perfect for you.”

“Duro?” Nasir asked and wrinkled his nose. “He’s only twenty-three and dad’s so…not.”

Pietros sat forward. “No, Duro would _totally_ work.” He tapped Naevia on the arm. “We should do that. We should do that now. Call him.”

“You have a bartender’s number on speed dial?” Dagan asked. He frowned at his sister. “I don’t think that’s safe.”

Naevia rolled her eyes. “I see him, like, _every_ night, Dagan. He always keeps a look out for anyone who needs a ride home.”

Auctus could feel a headache coming on. He gladly took the water Diona held out for him. He kissed her forehead. “You are my only truly sensible child,” he whispered.

She winked at him. “I know.” 

Auctus turned back to the rest of his band of adorable and determined misfits. “Children, I’m more than capable of finding someone on my own.”

“No, you’re not,” Dagan said.

Auctus shook his head before continuing on. “Furthermore, Naevia, I don’t want to know how or why your younger brothers, one eighteen, the other nineteen, know anything about your favorite bartender. Lastly, not that I don’t appreciate the company, what are you all doing here?”

Diona was the one to break first by hugging him tight. “Since we can’t all be here for Father’s Day, we decided to have an Auctus Day instead. Me and Dagan found a long-weekend break that worked for the both of us and the rest re-arranged their schedules.” 

“And yours,” Nasir said. “I talked to your boss’s assistant and bribed her with gossip to get your schedule changed.

Auctus shuddered as he thought of Nasir and Chadara combining forces. They would take over the world. 

He couldn’t believe them though, his tough kids making him all soft. They never expected or anticipated anything to be given to them. All of them struggled with the idea of not being good enough, of not being wanted, and Auctus knew he couldn’t erase a childhood of that. He could just hold them, kiss them, listen when they needed it, and curse and rant when they needed it more. He helped and supported them, loved them, and they had done the same. 

This was his family and he valued it more than any fucking title his grandparents would try to hand down via ultimatum or something worse. He had enough of his own money; a career and a home he’d made for himself.

“Come here,” he said as he opened his arms to all of them. It was easier to do this five years ago when everyone was a little bit smaller. Now Pietros’ chin dug into his face, Nasir’s elbows into his chest, Naevia and Diona’s hair flew in his eyes, and Dagan towered over them all. This was still it though, the best thing, feeling all of them here together.

This was family and they’d made an Auctus Day for him. He hadn’t fucked up too badly as their dad. 

 

**And the One Time He Wasn’t**

1\. _Two Roads Diverged_

Idir was barely larger than Barca’s hands. He was small, wrinkly, and so very gorgeous. He had plump little lips, tiny little toes and fingers already grasping at air, a headful of dark hair to go with his dark eyes, and all kinds of beautiful. Auctus stood back, not even bothering to fight the tears falling down his face, as he watched Barca and Pietros fawn over their brand new baby boy. _They_ were beatufiul; a perfect family who had gone through hell to be together and see _this_ as their life. 

A lifetime ago Auctus and Barca had talked about having kids. Auctus’ answer had been an immediate no. Barca had been silent, saddened, and that conversation had started the beginning of their end. It was hard to work towards a future when both partners wanted fundamentally different things. Barca wanted a family; Auctus wanted what he thought of as freedom. 

He didn’t regret that decision, even now, as he watched them with Idir. Barca and Pietros were both caring individuals, nurturing, and they would be amazing parents. Auctus would always be too cynical, too selfish, and too stuck in his own ways to embrace the massive change and commitment that came with raising a kid. Maybe that _would_ change in some time or, if as his mother claimed, he met the right person, but after nearly fifteen years of thinking about it, Auctus was pretty damn certain. 

“Hey,” Duro said as he bumped into Auctus’ side. “You should go in there. Barca keeps looking up like he’s waiting for you.”

Duro was relatively new to their circle. He was a friend of a friend’s little brother and somehow latched on to Auctus because he felt Auctus needed to smile more. That was a two years ago and he still hadn’t managed to shake his own personal barnacle off. 

“It’s family time,” Auctus said. 

“And you’re family,” Duro said. He pressed his hands to Auctus’ back and gave him a shove. “Go.”

Auctus wanted to, fucking hell, did he want to, but he couldn’t.

“Here,” Duro said as he grabbed Auctus’ hand, “I’ll go with you.”

Something about irresistible forces and immovable objects fluttered through Auctus’ mind before he found himself quickly shoved into the hospital room. He turned to glare at Duro through the glass window, but all he got was a wide smile and a wave in response. The heavy thud against the door meant Duro clearly wasn’t moving anytime soon. 

“Hi,” Auctus softly said as he turned back to the amused faces of Barca, Pietros, and Naevia. He was sure Idir would smile too if he wasn’t already asleep. “How’s everyone doing?”

“I have stitches in places I don’t want to think about and my tough ass fiancé fainted and got a concussion, so I’m awesome,” Naevia said. 

“I’m kind of in shock,” Pietros admitted. There were tears in his eyes, but happy ones. 

“I’ve been waiting for you to get your punkass in this room for the past twenty minutes,” Barca growled. “What, did you want an engraved invitation?”

Auctus gestured to the bed. “Family time.”

“And you’re family, you fucking idiot,” Barca said. 

At this rate, the kid’s first word _would_ be _fuck_. Auctus pointed to the door. “Did you like, call Duro that and tell him? He just said the same thing.”

The other three adults exchanged a look that could only mean bad things for Auctus’ future. Naevia was the only to speak. “You should keep him around. He’s good for you.”

“Couldn’t lose him if I tried,” Auctus said. “And I have.”

Barca nodded. “Try harder to _keep_ him.”

There was a warning in those words Auctus didn’t have the headspace to think about now. His eyes fell to Idir. “I know I’ve already said it, but he really is precious. Only a little like Winston Churchill.”

“A black one,” Naevia mumbled. She turned to Barca and Pietros. “Can you guys get this over with? I kind of gave birth today and I’m a little exhausted.”

Barca laughed. “We’ll be out of your hair in a moment,” he said. He motioned for Auctus to come closer. “Look, I know you don’t want to do the raising your own kids thing, but you’re kind of one of the best adults I know. You make your own way, Auctus, and I’ve always admired that,” he gestured to the room, “ _we’ve_ always admired that.”

“What he’s trying to do is ask you to be Idir’s godfather,” Pietros said. He reached over and patted Auctus’ cheek. “We’re making you an offer you can’t refuse.”

Auctus looked down at Idir’s little face and, no, no he could not.

“Christ, do you know what you’re asking here?” He sounded choked-up because he was; this was the kind of honor he never expected.

“We do,” Barca said.

Auctus looked to Pietros who nodded in agreement. Auctus carefully ran a finger down Idir’s miniature face. “Of course, I’ll do it.”

“Finally,” Naevia said. She made grabby hands. “Give me the baby, close the door behind you, and get the nurse to okay a transport to the nursery.”

“I’ll do it,” Auctus said. “You guys stay here.”

He paused at the door to give them one last look, that beautiful fucking family who considered him one of their own. He pulled open the door and Duro fell backwards. Auctus immediately caught him by instinct.

“This is awkward,” Duro said as he looked up at him. “Congrats on the godfather thing though. Extra points to Pietros for using a classic movie line. I already got the nurse for you, by the way.”

Auctus couldn’t help it; he lost the battle with himself and fondly smiled down at Duro. “You’re a horrible eavesdropper.”

“Who had money riding on this and won,” Duro said. “The whole pool goes towards Idir’s college education so get that grumpy frown off your face.”

“You bet on my child?” Barca asked. He didn’t look pissed, just confused.

Duro scoffed as he finally straightened himself out. “You bet on _us_ , so consider it turnabout and fair play and all that fancy bullshit.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Auctus asked. He hadn’t been this confused since, well, the first time he met Duro.

Duro patted his cheek. “We’ll talk about it when you’re less emotionally compromised. Say goodnight to Idir.” 

“Goodnight, Idir,” Auctus said. He gave one last glance to the baby before he was dragged back into the harsh-lit, antiseptic smelling hallway.


End file.
